Frothiness

After a six-month letter writing campaign...

Dear Semblance of a Metabolism,
Please come back to me. Was it something I said?
Muchos besos grandes,
S

...I finally dropped a couple of dress sizes.

This has made getting dressed a little more fun again, and I've been looking for some inspiration. Fashion bloggers kind of crack me up because they're so cute and they can't seem to decide which cute pic of themselves to post, so they post like five full body shots of the same outfit + detail shots.Can't forget the details.

A couple of the ones I started following are:
http://www.puttingmetogether.com/
http://www.kendieveryday.com/
http://www.aintnomomjeans.com/


Any good ones I'm missing?

I promised myself when I was a slip of a girl and had time for such things that I wouldn't let myself get stuck in one decade of fashion. Unfortunately, as I stand here trying to think of an example of something that I wore in college that I would never wear now, I'm at a loss. That seems like a bad sign.

HOLP!

Talented

Most  of the time I have this self-deprecating schtick. And, yeah, that's not going away.

But while I'm usually joking (with the ever present kernel of truth), occasionally I start to fully buy in. And I think it makes others wonder if I'm really that lazy/self-conscious/awkward/depraved/slow/etc.

And I'm not really. Except for the awkwardness. I am every bit as awkward as I say I am.

Lately, though, it strikes me that it is a disservice to myself but more importantly to others if I choose to dwell in the place of the things I fail at rather than using the gifts I do have and being grateful for them. There's this one quote...Oh WAIT...I bet it's on Pinterest in pretty .jpg form...

Yup:

Source: knackstudios.com via Sarah on Pinterest

So here are some things--by the grace of God--that I'm actually pretty good at:
1. I love my kids. They get a surplus of hugs and kisses. I truly want to know who they are. I'm not perfect, but I apologize when I've wronged them.
2. My kids are cute. Genetically, of course, which I was 50% involved with. But I think they are sharp dressers. Who dresses them? Their mama. And not only that, I'm totally frugal about shopping for them. I'm like a consignment/thrift store ninja.
3. I make hot breakfast involving eggs nearly every morning for the whole fam. Yeah, like it's the effin' 1950s or something. I make healthy meals, usually from scratch, nearly every night. It takes a lot of planning and work. I exhaustively research optimal ways of eating and recipes to support my findings.
4. I have really long-term friendships that have matured and evolved over the years, and I enjoy fostering those relationships. I even think I manage to encourage others on occasion.
5. I'm a pretty decent writer. I hate even typing that, but the facts are that a.) I used to earn my living (and it was a decent one) from my writing and b.) I get compliments on my blog from people who have no reason to compliment me. It's hard for me to see beyond my need for improvement, but apparently I'm not too shabby.
6. I share our home with others on a pretty frequent basis. I work hard to make it a pretty, pleasant, neat(ish), and welcoming place.
7. Even though I would naturally be a hermit, I intentionally make time for people in my life and prioritize community.

I don't say any of these things to make you feel bad (if you do) because I guarantee that you are rockin' your own thangs that I struggle with. Maybe you should make your own list. If you need help getting started and I know you personally, I can probably help because...oh!

8. I have a knack for telling people clearly and honestly what their strengths are.

BOOM!

And you're welcome.

On Community

I love big long tables of people...

I'm an expert on developing community, so now I'm going to give you five bolded steps on how to build it with some commentary on each step.

Just kidding!

I, clearly, know very little about how one develops a strong community that is open and honest and supportive.

But I do know one thing: You have to show up.

You have to show up when you're sad. You have to show up when you're glad. You have to show up when you're mad.

You have to show up when some jerk channels Dr. Seuss. It's a bonus when you show up with chocolate mousse.

Captain Obvious reports: You cannot get to know someone who isn't around. And knowing and being known is an essential part of community.

So, step one--show up.

Guess what?

NAILED IT!

I'm a total shower upper most of the time. Wasn't always the case, but I learn, albeit slowly.

Now. Anybody got the next step?

If You Pinterest

Do you ever start clicking around Pinterest and sort of forget where you are, or switch to a different tab, or step away from your computer and then come back and realize that you're on the BEST board ever. And then think "Wow, this person has such amazing taste; I love everything here! I need to make sure I'm following her..." and then realize it's your own board?

Carry on then.

You know you want to.

The End of Me

Oh, chickens. Today involved tears.

I am a proud little peacock (really just a chicken who wants to think of herself as a peacock), and mea culpa, etc., I was not upset for legitimate reasons, but because I want to be thought of as pretty, clever, charming, and generally AWESOME. Preferably by as many people as possible. If not everyone.

At least the Motivational Manatees love me.

But as per usual I was awkward, negative, and--well I think my hair looked okay, so there's that.

I couldn't wait to get back to my car to have a little self-indulgent cry.

So I turn the key in the ignition and as my stereo pops on I see that the song about to start is a Bible verse, and I think "Lord, please do not tell me that I'm so dense you need to play a blatantly relevant Good Word right now."

I'm that dense.

It was Psalm 115: Not to us, LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness.

Mmmhmm.

Then I got home and checked Facebook (Because...I was trying to throw more fuel on the fire? Am I the only one who occasionally sees the light at the end of my Tunnel o' Putrid Self Funk but AVOIDS the light because I want to wallow in the stank for a while longer? Yes? Okay then.).

My best efforts at climbing back into my pit were foiled again, however, because a friend had posted a link to this post on a new-to-me blog, and from there I found this post: Battle Discontent with Thankfulness.

If you don't feel like clicking over, the first suggestion is to never complain.

Never complain. Even about the weather.

I'm gonna try it, folks. And it ain't going to be pretty because I think about 40 percent of my conversation in "banter" mode is low-level complaining. (You want to hang out with me, don't you?) So awkward girl is about to get more awkward.

I also had to ask myself, "Self, can you blog without complaining?" And I answered a resounding, "of course!" But I've come to know myself pretty well after these thirtysomething years together, so I followed up with "But can you do that without exclusively writing schmalpy sentimental drivel?" And the answer to that is "Erm. Hrrmm. Maybe."

Stay tuned!

Grown Up

In that way of nearly three year olds who occasionally turn into sages, my son intoned from the backseat, "Mama, someday I'm going to be a grown up."

Half a breath and one thousand thoughts in a moment.

Someday he will be an adult.  He'll remember some of the things I said. I just don't get to pick which ones.

Not my kids...but apparently they
took the same picture every year.

Someday he'll be a certain kind of man.

Someday he'll have to face hurt, rejection, disappointment.

Someday he might get married and have kids.

Someday we might be close, or we might not.

Someday he will love or reject the faith his father and I have taught him.

"Yes, honey. Someday you'll be a grown up."

"Yeah," he said confidently looking out the window. "And I'm going to drink coffee."